


The Honey Moon

by badwolfbadwolf



Series: Mating Games [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Peter, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Multi, Somnophilia, beta!Stiles, beta!derek, stiles is a werewolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:36:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1787371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfbadwolf/pseuds/badwolfbadwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the full moon, Peter's pack bonds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Honey Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Mating Games Week 5 Challenge: Canon Divergence/AU, #30.

Stiles is Peter’s only bite.  He always takes a certain pride in that, lets himself preen when Peter calls just him over, when Peter smiles at him, when Peter purrs praise.  There’s Derek, too— the start of a pack.  Needy Derek, a born wolf. Loyal to a fault.  

But Peter doesn’t want that.  

Peter wants strong, smart.  Confident.  Stiles never was those things.  He was the goof who tripped over his feet at the cross country meet, the loser Lydia constantly turned down, the kid with the meds whose Dad called him home at midnight while everyone else snickered.  

The moment Peter’s teeth sunk in the world was different, blazing in technicolor, shiny and new.  There’s the curve of Lydia’s smile, just for him.  Coach’s exhalation as he barks out _Stilinski, first line_.  Stiles fills out the shoulders of his t-shirts more fully, now.  It makes him swagger a little, makes Scott’s asthmatic cough seem so pitiful.  And the way Scott’s puppy-dog eyes turn to jealousy excites Stiles in a way he knows is not nice.

But of all the things Stiles is now — powerful, sleek, confident, clever — there is that _pull_.  That animal urge to belong and succumb pooling somewhere deep, building slowly.  It tugs him in circles until the full moon waxes, high and white in his window, and he winds up at his Alpha’s door with a hard cock and clenched hands.

The sensation hangs on his skin like the press of too-humid air, warm as blood on his tongue.  Stiles shakes with it, and Peter takes one look at him and beckons him in.  Derek’s already there, wrapped up in the sheets and naked, and that makes Stiles turn large, hurt eyes to Peter.

Peter smirks and raises an eyebrow as if to say _You still want it?_  And yes, of course Stiles does.  Even if it hurts to be second.

“Roll him over,” Peter says, and Stiles obeys without thought, his new strength making it so easy.  Derek is pliant in his sleep, muscles loose and limbs sprawling.  His skin looks pale in the dim light, smooth and unblemished, but Stiles knows that claw marks fade fast.

“Tired him out,” Peter says by way of explanation.  “Go ahead.  Feel how loose he is. How ready he is for you.”

Stiles peels back the sheets and Derek doesn’t even twitch.  The swirling black lines of his tattoo are bunched slightly between his shoulders, legs parted, the base of his balls visible between their easy spread.  Stiles lays his hands on the backs of Derek’s knees and slides upward, feeling the coarse hair beneath his palms.  Derek’s breathy sigh makes Stiles vividly aware of his drooling cock inside his boxers and Peter’s eyes sharp on his neck.

“Don’t be shy, Stiles.  We’re Pack now.  This is what Pack does on full moons.”  And Stiles has never heard that before, but there’s a lot of things about wolves he’s never heard of and still he does them because Peter says so.

He dips his fingers forward, rubs his thumb between the clench of Derek’s cheeks, right against that tight furl of skin.  It’s wet and soft and Stiles sucks in a breath that tastes like power, and then he’s pushing in further and parting Derek with just his thumb.  It slides in easily, Derek so open that Stiles is quickly fumbling with the button of his pants and shoving them down around his knees.

And there’s the pull again, that magnetic force yanking him forward, clawing out from his gut and slicking down his muscles as he pulls Derek’s hips up.  Stiles lines up, the head of his cock dripping wetly, blunt against Derek’s flexing hole.  He waits there, not sure why until he feels Peter’s hands at his hips, Peter’s cock warm against his back, Peter’s teeth snicking down into his shoulder.  Stiles bares his neck and eases inside, Derek so relaxed in sleep that he just sinks in.

“That’s my good boy,” Peter praises, and Stiles swells with the words.  The pull tugs him back and forth between the Alpha and the Beta, peaking when Peter parts Stiles’ cheeks with strong hands and forces his cock inward.  Peter fucks up into him hard, rhythm unflagging as Stiles’ orgasm rushes over his skin, sharp and perfect.  The knot in Stiles’ belly loosens, replaced by the lazy spread of warmth as Peter’s thrusts turn unhurried, Derek soft and silent beneath them.


End file.
